The Pierless Bridge
by R.K. Cloud
Summary: It's eleven months after the deal was made and Sam is trying to save his brother.  Will Dean have the faith he needs to save himself from this fate?  Or will Sam's faith have to be enough for the both of them?
1. Chapter 1

**---Well, here's chapter one. It's a bit on the short side, but I hope you enjoy!**

**Spoiler Warning****- minor spoilers throughout the series. Nothing too big.**

**Disclaimer:**** I own nothing Supernatural.**

"_Faith-is the Pierless Bridge  
_

_Supporting what We see  
_

_Unto the Scene that We do not-  
_

_Too slender for the eye It bears the Soul as bold  
_

_As it were rocked in Steel  
_

_With Arms of Steel at either side-  
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_It joins-behind the Veil To what, could We presume  
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_The Bridge would cease to be  
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_To Our far, vacillating Feet  
_

_A first Necessity."_

_-Emily Dickinson_

Chapter 1

"_Well then," Dean slammed the trunk. "We got work to do."_

That was 10 months ago and Sam was beginning to get worried. He'd looked for everything. Read every book, asked every contact, said every prayer. But still, he found no way to get Dean out of this deal.

But he couldn't just give up. This was Dean's life on the line. Dean's soul. And he would do whatever it took to get his big brother out of this deal.

Sam and Dean were heading towards Bobby's house after Dean heard news of another possible hunt. Some possession near the junkyard. Sam insisted that they use any free time they had to find a way to help Dean, but Dean was being his usual self. He was shut down emotionally. He insisted that they do their job. Forget about the deal for just a minute. But Sam knew that this was simply Dean's way of hiding the fact that he didn't believe there was a way out; didn't believe that Sam could save him; Didn't have faith. He would find any sign of a hunt and insist on checking it out, no matter how small of a clue they had.

Dean was driving now, music playing loudly on the radio. Sam looked at his brother, whose eyes were focused on the road, lips mouthing the words to the song that was playing. Dean turned to him and Sam looked back to the road. He let out a soft sigh.

"What now," Dean asked, his voice slightly annoyed. Ever since he made this deal to save Sam, his little brother wanted to engage in as many chick flick moments as possible. Dean hated it.

"Nothin' man it's just-"Sam hesitated. Hadn't they had this conversation before? At least every other week. It was getting old, and they both knew it. "You're doing it again."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Doing what?"

"This thing where you look for any excuse to look for a hunt and-"

"It's not an excuse, Sam, this is important." The volume in Dean's voice began to rise. "In case you forgot, we're the ones who let all those demons escape from hell."

Sam sighed again. Normally he'd go on about how this wasn't there fault and that Dean can't just keep running from his problem, but he was tired of the same argument over and over.

"Come on Sam, aren't you gonna finish? Tell me this isn't our fault; run your mouth about problems an' emotions? Or are you gonna save me the headache?"

Sam turned the radio down. He was desperate to make his brother understand. "I just-I just wish you had more faith."

Dean looked almost shocked. He hadn't been expecting that. "What're you talking about?"

Sam didn't really know how to reply. He wasn't planning on sharing this particular feeling with Dean. He knew that his brother didn't have any official religious beliefs- none at least that he was willing to share- but it hurt Sam to know that his brother didn't seem to have any faith in him either. Or in Bobby, Ellen, or Missouri, all of which had tried multiple times to help out. "It's just," Sam paused. He wasn't exactly comfortable with these chick flick moments either. He repeated his first statement. "I wish you had more faith."

Dean turned the radio back up. A new song was playing now. "C'mon Sam, we've been through this too. Angels and praying aren't my thing."

"Damn it, Dean, that's not what I'm talking about."

"Then why don't you enlighten me Sam. Since you seem to know everything these days."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Dean tried to end the conversation. But the look on Sam's face told him that he wouldn't let it go. "It's just every time we try to get some work done, you're over hear blabbin' on about how we should be doing research and how we should be taking a break from hunting. You know that's not how things work."

Sam gave him an incredulous look. "Dean, I'm trying to help you. You might not care that in two months the demon's coming to collect, but I do." Sam paused. "I care about you, man."

"Oh god," Dean groaned. "Here we go." Dean noticed Sam's look. It was worried and tense. Dean noticed how much younger it made Sam look. He rolled his eyes. "Alright Sammy look, I know you do, okay? But right now, we've got a demon to catch." He let out a slow sigh and raked his hand across his hair. "Alright, I'll tell you what. After this hunt, we focus on nothing else but this deal, alright?"

"Fine."

"Fine." But Dean wasn't completely sure how true that statement was. He didn't really believe Sam could save him. Especially because of what the demon had said. If he tried to get out of the deal, Sam would die. Dean figured they'd already pushed their luck enough.

After a moment of quiet, Sam spoke up again. "But I still wish you'd tell me what the hell's-" his words were cut short as he felt a throbbing pain in his head. He grunted in pain as he saw a flash of light and then a vision.

_There was something wet. He was laying in it. Something hard too. It was dark; too dark. Then nothing. _

The vision stopped as quickly as it came.

"Sammy?" Dean had pulled the car over and was resting a hand on Sam's shoulder. He hated these damn visions. "Sam. Answer me."

"I'm alright," Sam told him through a slightly pained breath.

"You sure?" Sam nodded. "What'd you see?"

Sam hesitated for just a moment. He wasn't sure what he saw. In fact, he didn't see anything. He'd _felt _something, but he hadn't been able to make anything out. "I don't know."

"What'd you mean 'you don't know'?"

Sam took in another deep breath. "It was weird. It felt like I was lying on the ground. It was wet. I could feel things, but I couldn't see anything."

"So it was dark?"

"Yeah. Yeah I guess. But it was a weird kind of darkness. And for a split second before I snapped out of it, I felt-"Sam hesitated after seeing how worried Dean seemed to be.

"Yeah?"

"I didn't feel anything. I felt- _nothing._ Like emptiness."

Dean sighed and began to start the car back up.

"Dean, this's gotta mean something. I don't just have random visions like this. Usually they show me someone's death."

Dean sighed as he slowly pulled the car back onto the highway. He was worried. Sam's visions were never good things. "Alright, well, it must have something to do with this hunt, right? All the more reason to hurry up and get to Bobby's."

"Yeah, I guess." But Sam wasn't convinced. This vision was different from any others he'd had. Dean shook it off like it was no big deal, but he could tell by the look on his big brother's face that he was worried.

Lately Sam had been having a feeling that something was off. He couldn't quite explain it and decided that he was just getting worried as Dean's year was almost up. But this vision made him rethink that. Maybe something else bad _was_ about to happen.

---**So, what do you thing? Good? Bad? I know it's started off a bit slow, but the pace will pick up, I promise. New chapter coming this weekend or early next week hopefully. Reviews help a lot!**


	2. Chapter 2

**---Well, after a bad case of writer's block, chapter two is up. Things are about to get a bit more complicated for our boys.**

**Spoiler Warning-**** Spoilers for BUABS and AHBL. Again, nothing too big.**

**Disclaimer-****I own absolutely nothing Supernatural.**

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"_Faith and doubt both are needed - not as antagonists, but working side by side to take us around the unknown curve." -_**_Lillian Smith_**

Chapter Two

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"So what're we looking at Bobby?" Sam asked. They had arrived at Bobby's an hour before and were getting down to business after there usual greeting of stories and whisky.

"Four missing persons reports. All but one found dead," Bobby let out a sigh.

"And you think it's our kind of case?"

"The three they found dead were all found with markings on their bodies. The demonic kind."

"What about the one they found alive?"

"That's the thing, I don't know. The police aren't letting up on information. Nothing in the papers."

"Well then, we go to the police station, see what they'll tell us," Dean concluded.

"That'd probably be the best way to find out," Bobby agreed.

Dean began to head toward the door, but stopped after seeing Sam's face. He'd seen that face way too often lately.

"Dean, maybe we should wait a day or-"

"Sam, we've been over this. We finish this hunt, _then _we think about that." Dean walked out of the house and called back, "and not a minute before."

Sam looked to Bobby, who returned a worried glance. "I'll try and talk to him when you boys get back," Bobby told Sam. "But don't expect much. You might have inherited your daddy's looks, but Dean's got his hard head."

Sam grinned, "Thanks Bobby." And he left the house.

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"What did you say your names were again?"

"I'm Eric Bloom. This is my partner, Buck Dharma."

Dean and Sam were at the police station. The police officer gave an almost skeptical look, but continued on. "And you say your work-"

"We're private investigators. Look, I gave you guys our I.D. already." Dean was beginning to get impatient.

"Alright, well what do you two need?"

Sam spoke up, "Just the case files for the latest kidnapping."

"I'm sorry," the man said. "I'm not authorized to give you those. But I can try and answer any questions you may have."

Dean let out a silent sigh. He hated talking to police. "Ok, well, this guy, what was his story?"

"Tom Reiners," the officer began. "Thirty-three years, married five, no kids." The answers flowed from the man's mouth easily. "Lived here his entire life. He was a good guy; had a lot going for him. He and his wife were planning on starting a family."

"So, what happened?" Sam asked.

"A month ago his wife woke up and he wasn't there. After panicking for awhile, she called us." The man sighed. "There was no sign of a struggle, some of his cloths were taken, so we thought he just ran out on her… but then other people started to go missing…started turning up dead."

"How did you find Tom?"

"We got a complaint a few nights ago. Someone complaining about yelling in the surrounding woods," the officer told them. "We went to go check it out, but by the time we got there, all we found was Mr. Reiners lying there on the ground. He was bleeding and bruised up pretty bad."

"And you have no idea what the hell happened up there?" Dean asked.

"No. He was muttering something though. Something about not knowing what he was doing. He said he was having flashes of things that he did; said he had no control. He died later that night at the hospital."

Dean and Sam exchanged knowing looks. "Can we speak to his wife?" Sam asked.

The officer frowned and sighed. "His wife is dead. We suspect that he killed her."

Sam sighed. "What about the others? Do you think he had anything to do with their disappearances?"

"Mr. Dharma, Mr. Bloom, that's private information. This is an ongoing investigation. I'm sorry, that's all the information I can release right now."

"Alright, well, thank you for your time," Sam told the officer as he stretched out his arm to shake the man's hand.

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It was cloudy outside in the already creepy looking town. The gloominess and the sight of the woods surrounding the town created, Dean thought, one hell of a creepy looking place.

The two Winchesters pulled up to the Tom Reiners home around noon. It was secluded from the main part of town, as most homes were, and the sight of a cabin-looking home in the middle of nowhere only added to the town's creepy illusion.

Despite the bright yellow police tape, the two went into the house. "Well, this looks cozy," Dean said as they entered the home. The two walked around slowly, looking for anything that might clue them in to exactly what happened. As Dean turned down the hall Sam heard him call out, "Or not."

Sam went to his brother, only to take in a gruesome sight. There was blood. _Lots _of blood. It was spattered along the walls of the hallway and led into a bedroom, where there was a pool a dark red.

But Sam and Dean looked beyond the chilling sight and noticed the room. It was completely empty except for the blood and a few yellow cards with numbers on them left by the investigators to mark evidence. It was the window that they noticed.

They both walked over towards the shattered mound of glass that had once been a window. On the window pane was something they recognized all too well.

"Sulfur," Sam said as he rubbed a bit of it between his fingers. His fears had been confirmed. They _were_ dealing with a demon.

"Sammy," Dean said. He was now standing in the middle of the room, looking up towards the ceiling. Sam did the same. He saw another familiar sight. "Looks like someone knew what they were dealing with."

"A Devil's Trap," Sam sighed.

"Yeah, and it's broken, kinda like that little trick Meg pulled awhile back." Dean remembered that day and knowing that the Devil's Trap didn't always work, scared the hell out of him. "Looks like this hunt just got a little more interesting."

"I'll check out back, see what I can find."

"Ok and I'll finish up the rest of the house."

---------

"So, the guy was possessed, kidnapped those people, came back home, killed his wife, the usual demon shit."

"Well, that's what it looks like. And what about the Devil's Trap?" Bobby asked. Sam and Dean had recounted what they found at the cabin.

"Well, we don't know," Dean told him. "It obviously didn't work, so the demon's gotta be out there somewhere…and we have no idea what it looks like."

In realization, Dean and Bobby exchanged worried looks, just in time to see Sam's eyes turn an empty black. Before they had time to react, the two older hunters were flying across the room. Dean hit the wall with a thud. He thought to himself. Hadn't the same thing happen about a year ago? He even felt and worried and helpless to save Sam now as he had been before. How could he have let this happen again? How could he not have known that his little brother was possessed?

"Hi there, Dean." The now possessed Sam said in a mocking tone.

"You son of a bitch," Dean was angry and didn't hold back.

"Easy now, you shouldn't talk to your little brother that way."

"You're not my brother."

Sam smiled. "You're right. I'm not." And with that, the demon let a heavy fist find its way to Dean's face.

Dean grunted in pain. "What the hell do you want?" He asked. His statement was short and demanding. He didn't like asking demons questions. "If you're here to kill me, don't bother, I'll be your neighbor soon enough."

"Right again," the demon sighed. "As much fun as it would be to just kill you now, I'm only a messenger."

"Messenger? Who the hell for?"

"That's not for me to tell. But they want me to tell you that you'd better live up to your agreement."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Sam's fist came against Dean's face again, causing his vision to go temporarily blurry. "Don't play dumb now, Dean. I know what you've been doing." Sam smiled. "Well, at least what your brother's been doing."

Dean said nothing, just stared. His worst fears were coming true. The demon he made the deal with knew that Sam what Sam was trying to do. That meant Sam would die. "I swear, if you-"

"Don't worry Dean. They don't want Sam." Sam smiled again, an evil glow about his face. "It's you they want. Besides, I know you've given up. You don't _want _to be saved anymore. Then again, you always had your doubts. Always knew you couldn't _really_ be saved." Sam laughed now. "There's something great about a man who's accepted his grim fate. So empty, so lost, knowing there's nothing waiting for you but pain and fear."

Dean listened to the demon's words. He _had _accepted his fate. But that didn't mean he didn't want to be saved. However, right now, all that mattered was getting the damn thing out of his brother; making sure Sammy was safe.

"Well, if you're not here to kill anyone, me and Sam were just on our way out and-"

"Remember the deal, Dean. Try to find your way out of this deal and Sammy drops dead." Dean was confused. Why had the demon gone through so much trouble to warn them about this? They could have easily taken Sam. What difference would it make to them if it was him or Sammy that they took? Despite his confusion and now throbbing pain, Dean was extremely relieved that he'd been warned. He couldn't lose Sammy. Not now, after everything that they'd been through.

"I'll be seeing you soon enough kid," the demon said as one last fist came towards Dean's face. This blow was meant to knock him out, and it succeeded. His head throbbed and Dean had only enough time to see the puff of black smoke exit Sam's body, before his eyes shut heavily and he drifted off into unconsciousness.

**

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****---I hope you enjoyed. Cookies to anyone who got the BOC reference. **

**Please review! Reviews mean so much and really do help get rid of writer's block. **


	3. Chapter 3

**---Well, it took awhile, but the next chapter is finally up. It's a bit on the short side, I know, but it gets the points across. Thank you so much for the awesome reviews, they help so much.**

**Disclaimer:**** Nothing has changed. I still do not own Supernatural or its characters. And the song belongs to the ever talented classic rock band, The Cure.**

**Note:**** I realized that I'd made a mistake in dates. This actually takes place eleven months after the deal. So sorry for any confusion.**

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"_I went away alone, with nothing left but faith."_ **-The Cure**

Chapter 3

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_It was dark again. He felt something wet and hard-the place he was before. It was far too cold. _

_He turned his head to look-pain. All he felt now was a white hot pain shooting through him. He cried out and then heard a voice; a comforting voice. Everything would be okay, even though clearly, nothing was._

"Sammy!"

"What the hell?" Sam said drearily as he opened his eyes and was welcomed by the out-of-date pattern of Bobby's ancient couch.

"You're asking me?" Dean replied. Sam looked as his brother. His face was already showing a collection of cuts and dark bruises and there was a small gash appearing along his hairline. "You're the one who had the freaky-ass demon in you."

Sam was reminded now. The images of what he did and what he said while playing host to the unwanted guest flooded his mind. He remembered hurting Dean. It reminded him about the last time he was possessed. The two events had been _far_ too alike.

"Damn," he said, giving Dean a knowing look. First a possession, now another vision. "I had another vision."

Dean frowned. "Of what?" he asked as Bobby handed him an icepack.

Sam's face changed to match his brother's distraught emotions. "I'm not sure. It started out the same as the last one…only more intense." Sam paused, trying to recall the details. "Someone's in trouble." Sam remembered the pain he felt. "They were hurt."

"Well, right now I'm a little more worried about you being possessed," Dean said. "_Again_."

Bobby, who had been silent so far, spoke up now. "What scares me is that the demon being here- it has something to do with you boys."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, even though he knew exactly what Bobby was talking about.

"Well, don't you think it's a little strange that there're all these disappearances and murders, and then a demon shows up with a message for you?"

"Son of a bitch," Dean said, his voice laced with anger and, although he would never admit it, fear. It was there fault. The demon killed all of those people, just to have a face-to-face chat with him.

Sam didn't miss the tone of Dean's voice, or the look that his face now held. "It could be a coincidence," he lied, knowing all too well that it was their fault.

"C'mon Sammy, you don't believe that." Dean sighed. "No, those people are dead because the demon wanted us here; knew we'd come to check things out." He took the icepack off of his head and winced at the movement. Four people were dead because of him; because of his carelessness. He had to make this right. The problem was he had no idea how. "See, I told you, Sam,"

"Told me what?"

"We shouldn't have been messing around with this deal."

Sam was silent. This was bad. Up until now, Sam didn't think that the demons knew about him trying to save Dean. "Dean, I don't care what the thing said. Demons lie."

"But sometimes they tell the truth."

Sam sighed. "C'mon, I mean, if it was serious about what it said, wouldn't it have come to us before? I mean, we've been trying to find a way out of this deal for eleven months and it hasn't come until now. It's just afraid we'll actually find a way out."

"I can't take that risk Sam." Dean replied. Nothing made sense anymore. The whole damn world was more confusing then ever.

Sam wanted to tell him what a load of crap that was, but chose not to. "So what do we do now?"

"Now, we find the damn thing before it kills anyone else."

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_It was cold and dark again. He felt the hard ground and the uncomforting wetness. The pain shot through him and the comforting words were back. Sam looked around. He could see the outline of somebody there next to him. His vision cleared just a bit and he could see more of where he was._

Sam awoke from the passenger seat of the Impala, head against the cool window. It was dark now and rain was lightly coming down, rain drops racing down the window. The radio was on, a classic rock song that Dean no doubt had chosen to play. They were headed towards a small town about one hundred and fifty miles away to meet an old friend-Missouri.

Sam had told Dean that Missouri happened to have been in the area, after Bobby had mentioned that one of there options for finding the loose demon was to have a psychic mentally search for it. The truth was, Sam had called Missouri and asked her to meet them in the town not only to help find the demon, but to help Dean as well. Dean would have never agreed to go if he knew that Sam had called Missouri, so the only way to get him to go was to lie.

Sam lifted his head up and Dean looked over at him, the bruises on his face looking even darker than before. "Mornin' sunshine."

Sam said nothing. He sat there in silence, not choosing to tell his brother about the newest installment of his vision. Instead, Sam leaned his head back and listened to the music that his brother loved so much.

'_Your voice is dead and old...' _

"Dean, you know we've gotta talk."

'_And always empty...'_

Dean was completely silent. He wasn't going to do this. Not now. He didn't know if he had the strength.

'_Trust in me through closing years, perfect moments wait…' _

Sam was getting angry. It discomforted him how easily his brother would accept his fate. No, Sam thought. Hell would not be his fate. "Why won't you let me help you?" Sam said, louder than he'd meant to.

'_If only we could stay…'_

Again, Dean was quiet. He heard his brother, but was unwilling to answer back.

Sam's frustration rose. Didn't Dean understand? He was going to die. He was going to leave Sam all alone. What kind of brother was he? "A fucking demon is gonna come take your soul, and you're gonna let a little threat from some messenger stop us from trying to save you!"

'_Say the right words…'_

"Sam…" was all that Dean said.

"NO!" Sam said, almost yelling now and his voice was harsh. "Damn it, Dean, why don't you believe I can save you? You have no faith in me, no belief that maybe somebody can help you! What the hell's your problem?"

'_or cry like the stone white clown and stand lost forever in a happy crowd…' _

Dean had had enough. "You wanna know what the hell my problem is?" he asked as he pulled the car over to the side of the road, voice as loud as Sam's now. "My problem is, I'm not gonna watch you die Sam! I had to do it once, don't make me do it again!"

Sam was almost at a loss for words. He lowered his tone. "I should have stayed dead."

'_Justified with empty words, the party just gets better and better…' _

Sam didn't miss the look of hurt in Dean's eyes. His voice was quieter as well. "Well, Sammy, I should have too."

They were both silent for a minute. "Dean, I just want you to know…" he paused, not missing the usual rolling of Dean's eyes. He rarely had moments like these with his brother. Moments when the timing was perfect to say what needed to be said. "I want you to know, that even if you don't believe me, even if you don't have faith in me, there _is _a way to save you and I sure as hell and gonna find it."

Dean didn't know what to say. So, as usual, he said nothing at all. Maybe the demon _was _lying and really _was_ just afraid that they would find some loophole. But maybe it wasn't. Dean couldn't take that chance. Still, they were on their way to Missouri, and maybe she would have the answers they needed. Dean pulled the Impala back onto the road.

'_I went away alone, with nothing left but faith.'_

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After driving for what seemed to be hours in the now awkward atmosphere of the car, Sam began to feel completely helpless. He watched the drops of water on the window run down the glass. He felt the rumble of the car beneath him. He closed his eyes.

_It was colder than before. He felt hand wrap around his. Sam couldn't even feel the hard ground anymore or the wetness in whatever it was that he was laying in. He just felt cold. _

_The blurriness from before was fading. Then again, it felt like everything was fading. The pain; the world. _

_And then everything went blank. There was a flash of light and he could feel that he was in his own body. He was almost relieved. Almost relieved that the vision was over and he wouldn't feel that way anymore. But then he looked down and realized that his vision wasn't over. _

_Sam felt a melting in the pit of his stomach as he looked down and saw Dean lying there, in a pool of his own blood, eyes open, but not really seeing. _

"I went away alone, with nothing left but faith."

**

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****---Well, what do you think? It looks like things are about to get even worse for our boys. Sigh As for the song lyrics throughout part of the chapter, I just couldn't resist. The words just seemed to fit the situation perfectly. **

**Well, reviews are always welcome and help a TON. I hope you enjoyed. New chapter coming as soon as I can get it up, as well as a oneshot I'm working on.**


	4. Chapter 4

**---Sorry for such a long wait. I'm in the process of moving, so finding a computer to update on is a bit tough. On with the next chapter!**

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__Faith consists in believing when it is beyond the power of reason to believe. _**–Voltaire**

Chapter 4

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For somebody who was just told he was going to die, Dean seemed strangely calm. In fact at first, the only words Dean spoke to Sam after he told him about this vision, was, "Well, this sucks." He refused to say much else the rest of the way to Missouri's.

"Don't worry about it Sam," Dean urged his brother to calm down. They'd known this was coming for eleven months now. But he tried to calm Sam down anyway, just like he used to when they were kids. "You've had visions like these before. They don't always come true."

"Dean, don't you get what I'm saying?" Sam began, desperate for a bigger reaction from his brother. "I say you die. I _felt_ you die." Sam looked down, not liking the memories of the visions. "Hell, for awhile during the visions I _was_ you." His brother just didn't get it.

Dean turned the car into the drive way of a small house. He parked the car and looked towards his brother. "Look Sammy, I'm not saying this isn't important, but right now we've gotta focus on the job; on his demon." Dean didn't miss the look of disappointment and distress on Sam's face. He tried his best to keep his own fear buried. Hearing that Sam had actually seen his death wasn't exactly comforting; it was down right terrifying. It erased all hope that he would make his out of this alive. And that scared Dean. It scared his to know that in less than a month, he was going to die and leaved his little brother all alone-unprotected.

But he had to keep those emotions hidden. Not only for his own sake, but for Sam's. Both Winchesters exited the car, stepping into the depressingly dark night. They walked up to the door. Dean was about to knock, when the door suddenly opened. "Don't you two know not to keep a lady waiting?" she asked in pure Missouri fashion.

"Hi Missouri" Sam replied, smiling, as the psychic stepped to the side, inviting them in.

"Well, don't stand out in the cold, get in here."

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Sam hated recounting what the last few days had brought. He told Missouri everything. About the possession; about the things that were said; about the vision of Dean's death. Dean simply sat there, listening to his brother recount the events. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to leave the room; to run away from his troubles and fears that were now being voiced.

"But none of that's important right now," Sam added. "Please, Missouri, tell my brother how stupid he's being for making us focus on some loose demon instead of a way to help him."

"Sam, for the last time, that's not fucking important right now."

"Boy, if you're going to use that kind of language in this house, you can sleep in that car you love so much."

The psychic's words were as harsh as ever, but both boys seemed to notice the lack of bravado that her face usually held. Instead, her features were soft, not so intimidating.

Dean was thankful for the opportunity to leave the room; to escape the awkwardness of the situation that now held strong. "Don't mind if I do," he said with a cocky tone, but Sam noticed that, like Missouri, his brother's face failed to match his voice.

Sam stood up to follow as Dean left the house, but was stopped by Missouri's hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, baby, it's hard for him, you know that."

"What?" Sam question, although he was sure he knew what the woman was talking about.

Missouri let out a feeble sigh. "Sam, sit down,"

Sam did as he was told.

The psychic continued, as she sat down across from Sam. "It's hard for your brother to deal with what's happening to him."

And there it was. The words Sam knew to be true; the words he wished Dean would admit. "He won't let me help him."

Missouri looked him straight in the eye, in a way that gave an even more empathic look to her already too knowing self. "Baby, he just wants to make sure you're safe. That's al that's keeping him from doing whatever it takes to save himself. That's why he's so accepting of this fate." Missouri paused, reached out, and laid a hand on Sam's wrist. "And as stupid and arrogant as he may seem for not letting anyone help him…" she closed her eyes and sighed deeply. "He's doing the right thing."

Sam gave her an incredulous look. "What?" he asked harshly. How could he be doing the right thing? His brother was just going to _give up_, and he was doing the right thing?

"He's not giving up," Missouri interrupted his thoughts. "Dean may be a _lot_ of things, but that boy isn't a quitter."

Sam was quiet. He was still trying to process what Missouri was trying to tell him.

"It's time we talked, Sam."

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The night air was cold, but Dean didn't care. He walked down the driveway to his car, opened the door to the driver's seat, and sat down, escaping the cold night and the troubles that came along with it. He sat for a moment and felt uncontrollable frustration rise throughout him. Unable to shake the feeling, he slammed his forearms roughly against the steering wheel and set his forehead between them.

After a few moments, he sighed and lifted his head to lean it back against the seat. He sighed and closed his eyes, trying to calm down. This was bad. Not only did he loose all hope of living, not only was he going to hell, but he was going to leave his brother behind with a demon on the loose. It had killed four people already and even possessed Sam. Who was to say it wouldn't do it again? Maybe next time, Sam wouldn't be so lucky. And that scared him like he'd never been scared before.

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"You're not going to like what I'm about to tell you, Sam," Missouri's voice was solemn. When Sam didn't speak, she continued. "Eleven months ago, your brother made a deal to save your life."

"Yeah, I know," Sam replied sarcastically; frustrated. What was Missouri trying to tell him?

"And now," the psychic continued, "you had a vision of his death. You've been expecting this; waiting for it. But Sam, your brother doesn't have to go to hell. His soul does not have to suffer. He _can_ be saved." She paused, looking at Sam's attentive face. "But you have to be willing to save him." She pause again, not wanting to say what she was about to tell Sam. "Tell me, Sam: what are you willing to do to save your brother?"

"I'd do anything, Missouri. _Any_thing."

"Even let him die?"

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The night was dark, except for the half moon offering what little light it did. Everything was still. If not for everything going on, Dean would have found it peaceful. Almost beautiful in its silence and simplicity.

Dean took a deep breath in, forcing himself to get up and head inside. He opened the Impala's door. As he did, the stillness of the night was interrupted as wind blew heavily, making the leaves on the trees to sway, causing an air of eeriness. The little light that had been coming from the moon quickly disappeared, covered by deep gray clouds, leaving nothing but wind and darkness.

Dean looked around in alarm. He stepped out of the car and began to head towards the house, knowing all to well what abrupt weather changes in a once still night brought. He had to warn Sam; warn Missouri. But as he took a few quick steps into the night, he heard a noise behind him, and before he knew what was going on, he was met by a whole new kind of darkness.

---------

Not noticing the sudden changes outside, the two psychics continued to talk.

"Just let him die?" Sam asked, his voice rising in volume and in tone.

"Please Sam, just listen to me," Missouri told him. "The deal he made said that in one year from then, a demon would come to collect his soul."

"Yeah, so?" Sam had grown impatient.

Missouri sighed. "The other night I had the same vision as you did, Sam. A demon is going to come for him, before that year is up."

"Why?" Same asked, more confused then ever, but all the more attentive.

"Why do any demons come after you boys, or any hunter for that matter?"

Sam understood. Evil was forever ruining their lives. Ever since that fateful night more than twenty years ago, evil had them and now it would never leave them alone. This demon must really hate Dean to be coming after him like this. "You're telling me it's some pissed off demon that's coming for him?" he asked. "It's not even the demon who's collecting his soul?"

"I don't know exactly what demon it is, when it's coming, or why exactly it wants Dean, but whoever it is, it's about to make a big mistake; one that could save Dean's soul."

"How?"

"Demon can only collect his soul one year from the night the deal was made. If your brother is killed before that, than Dean has time to move on."

Sam laughed, but it had absolutely no humor behind it. "So it's like some kind of morbid loophole?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Let his brother die, to save him? Just let Dean die? There was no way. "No. No, there's gotta be another way. I'm not just going to let him die."

"Sam, honey, it's the only way. I know you don't like it. I don't expect you to ever be ok with it, but this is the only way; the only way to save his soul."

Sam had had enough. His eyes began to sting. "NO! I'm not letting him die! He didn't let me die. I can't."

Missouri let a tear fall as she stood up and went to sit next to Sam. She grabbed his hand. "I'm sorry. But you're going to have to make a decision."

"I can't," Sam repeated, so quietly that Missouri almost didn't hear him.

Both looked to the door, stood up, and hurried outside, into the dark. Sam quickly rushed out towards the Impala's open door. But Sam couldn't feel the cold, nor did he realize how dark it was. Missouri walked towards him, noticing his eyes, which were wide with terror. She looked at the scene before them.

There was no Dean. Only dark read blood pooled thickly outside of the car, where Sam was sure his brother was standing, just minutes ago.

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**---Thanks for reading. Please review, it really makes my day.**


	5. Chapter 5

**---Well, it's back. So sorry for the long wait. Life got a bit ahead of me. I tried to make it a bit longer to make up for the lack of updating. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own 'em.**

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"_Doubt is a pain too lonely to know that faith is his twin brother._ - **Kahlil Gibran **

Chapter 5 

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_Dean just lay there as an unseen entity threw him around like a rag doll. The figure threw him into the wall and watched as Dean slumped down, lying on the hard ground. Then the figure picked him up by the front of his shirt and began throwing heavy punches at his face. Dean opened his eyes wearily, blinking slowly, groaning in pain. He was dropped by his unknown attacker who began kicking him in the chest and the stomach. Dean slowly tried to crawl away, but appeared to give up, his body unable to move. The figure lifted Dean's head one more time and let his fist give a final blow. Dean fell back down, his head hitting the floor hard, and did not move again. _

Sam gasped for air, waking from his most recent vision, as the piercing headache became even more painful. He tried to regain his collectiveness, ignoring the worried stares from Missouri. He waited a minute for the pain to lessen.

But the physical pain of these visions was nothing compared to how he felt about what he had actually seen. His brother- suffering so much at the hand of a demon. It pained Sam to know that right now they had Dean and there was nothing that he could do about it.

Visions of this sort began flooding Sam's mind increasingly more. Every time they were different and Sam was afraid of when he would get his final vision; the one of Dean dying.

Missouri and Sam had been trying to get something on Dean for hours now. A location; a feeling; anything. They used his leather jacket that he'd left behind to try to focus their abilities, but so far all that Sam had gotten was a third rate projection of what was going on.

Without saying a word to break the silent streak that'd been going on for the last few hours, Sam got up slowly and went outside. He had to clear his head.

The golden sunrise was not beautiful to him. It looked like the sky was painted with an eerie layer of fire and blood. The morning air offered nothing but a piercing cold and false hopes for a new start of the day.

Sam cursed this day silently and let his thoughts wander for a moment. He'd done it again, he thought. How could he have let his brother draw the short straw again? It seemed as though every time Sam was in trouble, even as kids, Dean would find some way to shield him from any consequences, just like now.

Like the night he told his dad about Stanford. Sam laughed a humorless laugh. _That_ night had not been pleasant. He remembered all of the yelling and hateful words being thrown around between him and his father. Both of their emotions were getting the best of them, anger and frustration winning over all the rest. A few more minutes and it would have been more than just words being thrown around. But, like always, Dean was there to make sure neither did anything stupid; to try to calm things down, and how had he repaid him? By leaving Dean behind; not even looking back.

But that wouldn't happen again, Sam decided, anger growing within him. Sam stood up and said out loud, "Don't worry, Dean. Wherever you are, I'll find you. I promise." As he said this, a sudden chill ran down his spine. The wind picked up and caused the trees to sway above him. Sam looked around and something caught his eye. There was a figure standing by the Impala. At first, it was just a silhouette in the morning sunlight. But as Sam walked closer, he noticed a tall woman with long brown hair, staring at the ground.

"Hello?" he asked.

At these words, the woman looked up, flashing a pair of dark black eyes that made Sam's world come crashing down.

"Hey, baby," came the familiar tone that Sam would know anywhere.

"Meg."

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As he slowly came back to consciousness, Dean felt as though his head was going to explode. His entire body ached. He tried to get up to assess his injuries, but felt the world crash down beneath him. As he lay on the cold, hard ground, he realized how dark it was. How dark and _cold_ it was.

The last thing he remembered was being outside near his car. He remembered having a strange feeling and the need to warn Sam. And then he felt nothing. Not even pain.

_Sam._ "Damn it," he cursed, although his voice was low and shaking. He hadn't been able to warn Sam about the coming threat. Whatever that threat was. What if he were here, in just as bad or even worse shape? He'd screwed up again. _Just like always._

Dean was finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open. He lifted his hand to his head and felt a warm, sticky substance. _Head wound._ "Great," he muttered.

In the distance he heard a quiet sound, the shuffle of feet. He shifted his body to try to see the unknown form, but was stopped when he felt a fiery pain in his chest from an unknown wound. He grunted in pain. As he did, he heard the shuffling abruptly stop. As his eyes slowly closed, unable to stay awake in the state he was in, he had only one thought. _I'm not alone._

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"You can't be here."

The demon, Meg, smiled the same evil smile that she used to, only with a new face. "You like the new style?" she asked, as she flipped her long brown hair behind her shoulders.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sam asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Is that any way to greet an old friend?" She walked closer as Sam stepped back.

Sam was silent, unable to do anything. Meg walked closer to him and touched his face.

"Fine," she said, bringing her hand down to his chin and down to his chest, before removing it from him completely. "We'll skip the pleasure and get right to business."

Sam wished he'd thought to bring holy water with him, or anything he could use to hold Meg off awhile. He silently cursed his mistake.

"You may have noticed that I took your brother."

He'd been right. "Yeah," he said quietly, anger lacing his voice. "I noticed."

Meg's smile faded. "I wanna give you a chance to get him back."

Sam was confused. "What?"

Meg laughed, noticing the hurt and scared look on his face. "It's _so_ funny, you know? Human emotions. Especially yours, Sam. One look at those big, puppy dog eyes and I can read you like a book."

Sam was quiet again. He wanted to do something, _anything_ to get away from the demon before him, but he couldn't risk it. He couldn't risk not finding out where Dean was, if he was hurt, or even if he was alive.

Meg continued to laugh, until Sam spoke up. "Shut the hell up!" He said, his voice raw and fierce. "Just tell me where Dean is."

"See? Raw emotion. Pathetic." Sam could see by the look on Meg's face just how much she was enjoying this and it made him furious. His brother was out there somewhere, suffering, while she stood here taunting him. "It's funny, actually, you sent me to hell and a few months later, you let me right back out."

Sam frowned as she continued. "That's right, that Devil's Gate you two couldn't stop from opening? Thanks for that, by the way."

"I swear, the first chance I get, I'm sending you right back."

"Brave words for a man with no weapon," Meg said fiercely.

Sam was tired of the games. "Where is my brother?"

"You want Dean back, you've gotta come find him. See, Sam, I want to finish what my father started. I want you to be a savior; a soldier."

Sam was confused. He thought all of this 'soldier' business was done with. "If you wanted me, why didn't you just come and take me? Why take Dean?"

"Oh, trust me, I could have," her tone was dark. "All I would have had to do is waited for the right moment; wait for you to make a mistake; for you too be vulnerable. But I saw another opportunity; an opportunity for revenge."

It was all making sense now. Dean had killed the yellow-eyed demon. Meg was angry, saw an opportunity to hurt Dean, and like any demon, she took it. "I swear, if you do anything to him-"

"A little too late for that, baby," Meg interrupted him, as she smiled. "But don't worry. Like I said, you find him, you can save him."

Sam was still confused. "Why not just take me now. You've already pointed out that I've got no weapon."

"How stupid do you think I am? You really think I'm going to make a move when there's a psychic inside reading my mind, waiting for the right opportunity to come throw some Latin at me?"

With that, the door of the house burst open and Sam heard Missouri begin to chant.

"Exsurgat Deus et dissipentur inimici ejus et fugiant qui oderunt eum a facie ejus," her voice was loud, not stopping, even as Meg quickly turned around, ran, and disappeared into the trees surrounding the property.

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Somebody was coming. Dean could feel it. He tried to get up again and this time managed to get to a sitting position against the wall behind him. He could hear the footsteps he heard earlier nearing him, though it was still pitch black. He braced himself for whatever was coming.

A door flew open, flooding part of the room with a bright light. Dean squinted, his eyes watering from the sudden glare.

A figure quickly and loudly walked into the room, although he couldn't make out a face. It walked toward him quickly and kicked him in the chest. Dean gasped, holding his chest, sliding further down the wall he was sitting against. _What the hell was that for?_

"Who…the hell," he managed to say as he tried to re gather his breath. With that, he felt a fist connect with his jaw. _Okay, no more talking._

After a few seconds another figure walked into the room. This time, it spoke. "Hey there, Dean." It was a women's voice. "Good to see you again."

It couldn't be. He knew that tone of voice, but he was sure it wasn't who he thought it was. After a moment he weakly muttered, "Meg?"

She walked toward him. "Bingo."

Dean said nothing, merely closed his eyes. He couldn't believe how screwed up things had managed to get.

"You're probably wondering how I got here; or maybe why _you're_ here," she said bending down in front of him. "Or maybe you're wondering where sweet little Sammy is."

At the mention of his brother's name, he forced back some of his lost strength. "Where is he?"

"Don't worry baby, he'll be here before you know it."

It was all becoming clear now. This was all a trap for Sam. "I swear bitch if you do anything to him-"

"Don't worry Dean," Meg interrupted. Dean could see an evil glint in her eyes. "It wouldn't be any use to me to hurt _him._ But what do you say you and me have some fun while we're waiting? I still owe you for sending me and my family back to hell."

And with those words, Meg brought out a shining blade from somewhere Dean could not see. She swiftly lifted it and brought it down fiercely, letting it dig deeply into his shoulder. Dean cried out in pain as Meg said loudly, "there, there. This is only the beginning."

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Sam turned to Missouri who had rushed over to his side. Things had just gotten a hell of a lot worse than they had been. Not only was Dean captured and being tortured by a demon, but that particular demon was Meg. "Damn it Missouri, she has him."

"Leave it to Dean to make a demon hold a grudge against him," she said, putting a soothing hand on Sam's shoulder.

"I don't get it. Why take Dean?" He asked the psychic. "I mean, you said that if he dies before his year is up they can't take his soul. He died in my vision. So if Meg really hates him that much, why would she kill him before his time is up? Before he has to give up his soul?"

Missouri frowned as she answered, "She must be about to make a mistake." She pulled Sam along with her and motioned for him to sit on the porch steps. She took a seat beside him. "Demons can't control their wrath. They are evil, hateful beings," she told him. "Even though she made it sound like you were her main priority, Meg is focused on revenge."

"So Dean's soul is going to be saved because a demon made the mistake of killing him too soon?" Sam asked her.

"That's the idea."

Sam thought about all that was being said. Let his brother die to live? It wasn't right. What kind of brother was he to even be considering this? The stubborn part of Sam took hold now. "No, Missouri. I watched him die in my visions. I can't let him go that way."

Missouri closed her eyes and shook her head. "I can see that I'm not going to get through to you. You know, you remind me so much of your daddy."

At the mention of his father, Sam tensed up. He thought about his dad; wished he were here now. He'd know what to do.

When Sam said nothing, Missouri continued. "John was a stubborn man just like you," she said with a smile before continuing. "Baby, I don't want this to happen to Dean either. He doesn't deserve to die this way. I just don't see any other way to break this deal."

"I need to find a way Missouri," he said blinking away unfalling tears. He realized that he didn't have a way. No way to find Dean; no idea of how to save him.

Sam sat, looking into the morning sunlight, thinking about what to do. As if answering his question, he noticed a small white paper a few yards from his feet. He got up and walked toward it, picking it up. He unfolded it and saw the words "1428 E Maple."

He smiled and looked up at Missouri. "I think I know where to find him."

And Sam only hoped that Dean was still holding on. He hoped that he would hold on; have faith in Sam. But Sam wasn't sure if he still had faith in himself.

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****---Thanks for reading. Please review, it helps a lot. I promise to try to update more regularly. I am also going to be posting a short oneshot very soon. So look out for that if you're interested.**


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